Beyond the Walls

Chapter 11

The Commander clears his throat. "Thank you for your participation, Elizabeth. Your services are much appreciated and you will be rewarded with the knowledge that you are helping in the persistence of humanity."

Edward Mallory stands in the doorway of the holding room. It has been 48 hours. The test is over.

"No problem," is all I say, standing from the bed and following him out and down the hall. Edward leads me through the Candidate Testing area of the building, back to C Hall, and right up to the door of my room.

"Someone will fetch you at 6 o'clock for dinner," Edward says, pulling the door closed.

"Wait!" I blurt out. He stops. "Aren't you going to tell me how my test went?"

"You are merely a candidate, Elizabeth. The results of your analysis are classified." Then without another word, Edward closes the door.

It's in the silence that follows that I realise how loud my breathing is. I blow out my cheeks and sink onto the bed, laying down. After a few moments, I sit up and take the time to gaze out the window, taking in the view. The forest beyond the compounds is a dark silhouette against the bright glow of the Red Leaf symbol. An abyss holding an eternity of mysteries. If I stare hard enough, I can almost see the faint orange glow of the Untamed tribe in the far distance. I hope they are okay.

A knock on the door pulls me from my slumber. I sit up just as a guard opens the door. "Good evening, Elizabeth. It is time for dinner."

I stand and follow the guard out of the room. As we walk down the hallway, I spot his access card in his back pocket. Drawing in a breath, I cough loudly as I swiftly swipe the card from his person. The guard only glances over his shoulder, a look of disdain on his face at my cough.

I give him an apologetic look as he rolls his eyes and continues forward. He doesn't even open the door for me to the cafeteria when we arrive. I thank him sarcastically and let myself in, navigating the maze of tables to the one where Arden would usually be. But the seat that she usually takes up is empty.

I walk up to another guard by the queue for the food. "Excuse me, do you know where the girl who usually sits there is?" I ask, pointing. "Her name is Arden."

"If she isn't here it's likely that she's still in testing," he says, peering at me curiously.

Biting my lip, I nod and join the line to get my dinner. God, I hope Arden is okay.

I quietly sit down in my usual spot and eat the chicken stew on my own. As I eat, I gather my wits, preparing to carry out the first part of my plan. I pop the last chunk of chicken into my mouth, chew, swallow, and wash it down with a swig of water from the plastic cup. I stand and toss the cup in the trash and head over to the window where we place our trays. As I place my empty tray down, I swiftly swipe a paper napkin from the dispenser and shove it into my pocket. As I round the room, back in the direction of the exit, I walk past the whiteboard with the daily messages and, too, snatch a marker from the side, stuffing it out of sight. The last thing I do is quickly, carefully slip a butter knife into the waist band of my pants.

I am lead back to my room by another guard, who nods indifferently as he opens the door to my room and I step in. When the lock clicks and I am secured by myself, I pull the butter knife from my waist band and put it underneath the pillow. I slip out the napkin and marker from my pocket. The napkin is crumpled and so I press it out on the floor. I yank the lid off the marker with my teeth. Its ink is red and it runs as I scribble my note onto the paper. It is still decipherable though.

I stuff the napkin under my pillow and lay down on the bed to wait. The sun has long set and the ghostly light of the moon streams in, illuminating the walls in eerie shadows. I must wait until late in the night when the rest of the world has gone to sleep before I can execute my plan. Unfortunately, it means that I must not sleep. So, to keep myself awake, I pace back and forth across the room, waiting for the world to slip into oblivion for the night. When, at last, I decide it is late enough, I pull out the butter knife from under the pillow and traipse into the bathroom, flicking the light on.